Into the Labryinth
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: After the war, a crazy part of Hermione longs for the adventures she once had. Bill is more than happy to oblige.:: For Lady
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Week 3 of the Gift Giving Extravaganza. This one is for the lovely and talented Lady. For this, we're pretending Bill/Fleur and Ron/Hermione never happened.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asks picking up her pace, though she still struggles to keep up with Bill.

The man doesn't answer her question directly. Instead, he stops and turns, giving her a crooked grin that has every promise of mischief and danger, his eyes bright. "You wanted adventure, right?" he calls before setting off again.

Frowning, Hermione looks around doubtfully. All she's seen so far are old buildings and Muggle businesses. There haven't even been any signs of enchantments to hide some sort of magical element. Not exactly the makings of the adventures she used to have with Harry and Ron.

Maybe Luna's father had been right, she thinks as she starts to follow Bill again. For all her cleverness, maybe her mind really is a bit too closed, limited.

"I don't see any-"

But she cuts herself off with a gasp as she notices the structure Bill has stopped in front of. Whatever it is, the massive grey stone structure is clearly old. Its sides are weathered and chipped, and plants grow freely in the many cracks in the wall. Though it's seen countless years of neglect, Hermione can't help but think it's beautiful in a tragic sort of way.

"What is it?" she asks, running a curious hand over through surface and brushing away a bit of ivy.

"Your adventure," Bill replies, crooked grin still place. "There's no official name, but it's known as the Everchanging Labyrinth."

Hermione frowns, pushing a hand through her mess of brown curls. "I've researched magical structures in Britain-"

"Of course you have."

"-and I've never heard of it," she finishes, pointedly ignoring Bill's comment. Her tone implies that if it isn't in a book, it's impossible.

"You wouldn't have," Bill confirms, kneeling and digging through his backpack. "The officials go to great lengths to keep it a secret. I only found out about it by a happy accident at work. Overheard mentions of it. Thought it sounded fun."

"Why would they keep it a secret?" Again, Hermione studies it, pondering the architecture and imagining the history. Surely such a place ought to be shared.

"To keep people out. Few reach the heart of the maze. Most go mad. Those who still have coherent speech mention bodies in the tunnels. I reckon those who don't lose it just die."

"Pleasant."

The wizard glances up, chuckling. "Curse breaker," he reminds her, pointing to himself. Then, he points to her and adds, "Most brilliant witch Hogwarts has ever seen. You worry too much, Hermione. We can handle this."

Swallowing dryly, the witch steps closer to the entrance, examining the faded, elegant gold letters. "'Turn back now if sanity is treasured'," she reads aloud. "'For the horrors beyond here cannot be measured. Dangers hide in shadow from the start. To challenge mind, body, soul, and heart. Enter, mortal, if you dare. We have warned you; beware.'"

She doesn't like the sound of that, and her uncertainty must show. Bill stands, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "Trust me," he says, and Hermione can hear the gentle pleading in his words.

She does trust him. Bill isn't as familiar as Harry or Ron, but he has a sort of steady reassurance that draws her in. After a moment, nervous eyes flickering once again to the warning, she nods. "I do," she whispers.

Bill pulls back, holding out a jar. With a mumbled incantation, he deposits brilliant blue flames into the glass container. "Best to have our wands ready," he explains, slinging his bag over his shoulder and readying his wand. "Wouldn't want to use Lumos and worry about extinguishing it for defense."

Hermione does the same, her hand steadier now. She gestures toward the labyrinth. "Bill, what's in there?"

"No one knows. It's called the Everchanging Labyrinth for a reason," he teases with a chuckle.

She nods, trying to clear her mind. How many times has she faced certain death? How many times has she seen things witches twice her age would never even dream of? A silly stone maze shouldn't leave her this unsettled. "Well?"

Bill pushes open the stone door, the flames in the jar illuminating the darkness, but just barely as he steps inside. Without hesitation, Hermione follows. Behind her, the stone rolls back into place on its own, sealing the exit.

"Is it-?" Hermione begins, attempting to push it open.

The stone refuses to budge, and Hermione is reminded of those old scary movies of tomb raiders and the like. They're trapped, she realizes with a shudder.

"Once you take up the quest, you can only leave if it lets you," Bill says sheepishly, clearing his throat. "I probably should have mentioned that before."

"You talk as though it's alive."

Bill's cheerfulness falters, his expression suddenly grim in the dim lighting. "Who says it's not?"

Hermione chooses to ignore this. She's already on edge as it is. No need to let cryptic messages distress her further.

"Ready?" Bill asks, lifting the jar so that they can see a few feet in front of them.

She wants to say no, to say she's changed her mind and can find plenty of adventures in books. Instead, Hermione shrugs, putting on a brave face. "Do I have a choice?"

"That's the spirit!" Bill's light attitude returns as he leads her deeper into the shadows.  



	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry for being so slow to update this. My Muse has been difficult. Also, I forgot to mention it in my first chapter, but thank you, Sam, for being a wonderful beta.  
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Time seems to work differently in the labyrinth, and it's impossible for Hermione to determine how long they've been walking. Minutes? Hours? It all seems to blur together, and nothing makes sense.

She stays close to Bill because he is the only steady thing in the disorienting mess. "Bill," she ventures when the silence and curiosity overwhelm her, "you implied that this place might be alive. What did you mean by that?"

Bill remains silent for several seconds, pausing as they come to a fork in the path. With a sigh, he turns to her, shrugging his shoulders. "If you believe the legends."

"And what are the legends?"

"Typical stuff. Muggles discovered a group of dark witches and wizards. Out of fear, they began persecuting the group, waging war on anyone who was different."

"A witch hunt," Hermione supplies knowledgeably, familiar with that particular point in history.

"Exactly. The group decided to take revenge," the wizard continues. "Several sacrificed themselves as part of an ancient ritual. They gave themselves completely to become this labyrinth."

Hermione falls silent, pondering this. "Like Voldemort and his Horcruxes. He split his soul and left pieces behind."

"They didn't just leave pieces," Bill explains grimly. "Blood, bones, souls, even their consciousness. They left all of themselves here so that, even in death, they can live on, punishing anyone who dares to cross them."

As Hermione shivers, Bill wraps an arm around her. "It's just a story, like the Tale of Three Brothers. Maybe there's some truth behind it. Maybe not."

His words should be comforting, but Hermione hears the uncertainty in his tone. She pulls away, swallowing dryly and hoping Bill can't see how shaken she is. Showing weakness and fear would do no good while trapped. "We should keep going," she decides.

"Which way?"

Maybe it's her imagination, but Hermione could swear a draft washes over from the left path. Cold dread washes over her, and she instinctively turns to the right. Without giving a verbal answer, she begins to walk, desperate to escape the draft.

"Wait! I should go fir-"

But Bill's final word is cut short as a wall forms between them, separating them. "Impossible," Hermione whispers, rapping her knuckles against the barrier.

Solid.

She tries again and again until her skin splits and traces of blood mark the wall. "Bill? Bill!"

No reply. "Bill, answer me!" she screams, slapping her palms helplessly against stone.

Footsteps sound behind her, and Hermione turns quickly. "Lumos."

The wand offers little illumination, but it's enough to see what's waiting in the shadows. Pale skin, dark curls, the eyes of a lunatic.

"You're dead," Hermione croaks, backing against the wall. "I saw you die!"

Bellatrix Lestrange steps closer, a cold smile twisting her lips. "Miss me, Mudblood? I've certainly missed you," she cackles, lifting her wand. 


End file.
